


I Know It's Shocking

by CravenWyvern



Series: Previously Punned [5]
Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Flooding, Gen, Kind of AU, Lightning Strike - Freeform, Tonic-Clonic/Grand Mal Seizure, lots and lots of rain, very vague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 15:35:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9447767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CravenWyvern/pseuds/CravenWyvern
Summary: Wilson P. Higgsbury has a bad afternoon in the rain and doesn't really know why.





	

Wilsons claws were numb.

His arms were too, the feeling tight on his skin and wrapped around his chest. Pins and needles, he disliked that, and now that was all he could feel every time he moved. The general cloud of dread hanging over him wasn’t helping either.

Now, was this all because of the rain, he wondered? It was a particularly harsh downpour, the rumbled thunder overhead making him nervous, but so far his umbrella and raincoat have been holding out. It had been worth the effort getting the materials to create them, Wilson decided, because instead of being soaked through and utterly miserable, he was actually dry for once. The seasonal monsoons were quite heavy this year, and the flooding was getting bad. His camp was safe, on top of a hill and enclosed by a small, monsterless forest, but he had went out for a short trip and was now separated by a new rushing river between him and camp. It had only been a few days, but he was getting worried about his bird; he had left food for it, but the supply may be gone by now. He didn’t know what he'd do if he got back to find a little feathered body on the bottom of the cage.

Shuffling his feet, the trees branches and his umbrellas membrane keeping the water off of him, Wilson could feel a hanging puff of emotion enveloping him, some sort of thick anxiety and fear. It was unfounded, he was sure there was nothing around him causing it, no dark flowers or spiders or hounds or reaching shadows, but it almost felt like déjà vu. A shiver passed up his spine, a short spirit of terror flooding his senses for a moment before it completely dissipated.

This had been happening ever since he had gotten up this morning and had started to make his way back to camp. It was tiring and wearing him down, some sort of grinding ache that had bloomed in his head. The migraine wasn’t bad just yet, and if he kept his eyes closed most of the time then the brightness didn’t cut through him as sharply, but eventually it'll consume him and he'd be dealing with that for awhile.

Another roll of thunder arched overhead, a loud and volatile sound that startled him for a moment. The rain intensified and Wilson glared out at the wet meadow and the slowly growing river. He hated the rain, hated this particular season out of them all, and it was ironic because this was the only time year round that he'd get free, mostly clean drinking water. And yes, he did take advantage of that, left out as many bowl shaped objects that he could find to collect water, but he still had a deep, passionate loathing for the rain.

The next wail of thunder was crackling, strong and sharp, and it took a moment for Wilson to realize that it had actually been a lightning strike that had made the sound. The puff of smoke that started to rise a few miles away, obscured by forest, was testament to that fact. Wilsons claws tightened around the handle of his umbrella, earning a flair of buzzing numbness and pins and needles that faded quickly, and he wondered if he should leave the relative safety of the pine tree that cloaked him. Was it to stay away from tall objects and keep low to the ground, or to stick close, the lightning attracted to tall objects? He couldn't remember, a pulse from his head driving the worry away. Closing his eyes for a moment, Wilson breathed deeply and slowly let the air out.

Alright, maybe he should get away from the tree. It was a tall one, taller than the younger plants growing around it, and maybe he'd be safer in the empty meadow. Eventually the rain would stop and he'd figure out a way to cross the river. Getting back to the comfort of his camp was top priority right now.

Wilson started to make his way to the meadow, shouldering his backpack. It mostly contained twigs and grasses, stuff that'd be useful for almost anything, and he wondered for a moment if it had been worth it, going out in the rainy season for stuff he still had in storage. He had been running low, but maybe he could have lasted a few more days. At least until it had stopped flooding. 

Too late for that now. The best he could hope for was that his bird wasn’t dead and his food stores haven't gotten damaged. He definitely didn’t want to hunt in this downpour.

As he trudged over the soaked grass, the mud clinging to his shoes and the rain putting all its weight on his umbrella, he suddenly heard a low, static buzzing. Stopping for a second, feeling the hair on his arms and neck stand, Wilson wavered as the soft hissing intensified.

And then there was a loud sound, a cracking shriek, and something jittered down his spine, a magnified pain arching around in his head and chest, and Wilson vaguely realized after a moment that he was flat out on the ground.

It took a moment, his thoughts scrambled and heart thudding hard in his chest, tremors in his arms and legs, his ears ringing with a dull drone, before he could actually take a breath of air. The slight motion hurt, a dizzy pain that stuttered and then he could breath again, a little hasty but without the pain. Wilson slowly pulled himself to his feet, the joints in his arms and his spine flaring with a sore ache, claws twitching with uncontrollable shudders. His umbrella was nowhere to be found, a quick glance around suddenly making his vision go double and his headache come back full force.

Taking a step forward, a little confused and jittery, his balance wobbled and the pounding in his head intensified. Wilson faltered, blinking as the rain started to soak his hair, holding his head as another tremor scratched up his spine.

For a moment, he could see everything almost clearly again, his heartbeat slowing into a normal rhythm.

And then it was like a hole opened up underneath him. There was a rush, of darkness and confusion and a jumble of thoughts and pressure on all sides and then-

And then he was conscious again.

Wilson was, once more, in the grass and mud. He almost couldn't get back up, some sort of lead filling his limbs and everything slow and he was just so tired. He stayed on his knees for awhile, just breathing and blinking because his mind moved so sluggishly. A fatigue that had settled in his mind and body, for an unknown reason he thought, and he was covered in mud and very wet, thought now that he thought about it…

The rain had stopped. The air was thick and humid and warm, a sticky taste to the air. When he had been walking in the meadow, it had been pouring buckets of rain. When had it stopped?

How long had he been on the ground?

He had to breath slowly, an obscure feeling of panic and terror on the edge of his consciousness. Pulling his claws through his wet hair for a moment, a grounding point, he could feel that dragging numbness trying to make him lay back down. He was exhausted, everything sore and hurting, the rain soaked through his raincoat and making him very uncomfortable.

Taking a few more breaths, gathering what little strength he had left, Wilson shakily got to his feet, swaying for a moment before he regained his balance. He moved slowly, weighed down and so, so tired, and glanced over at the river. It was still going strong, a barrier that stopped him from going further.

His heart still thudding hard in his chest, Wilson took a moment to stare at his fallen backpack before deciding to pick it up later. He slowly made his way back to his temporary camp and the small tent he had waiting for him, crossing his arms over his chest and taking slow, measured breaths. For now, laying down was the only thing he could focus on. Everything else could wait.


End file.
